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He was six years old, feeling at home for the first time since moving in with his aunt and uncle.
He was seven years old, daydreaming about being a superhero.
He was eight years old, building his first computer and winning the science fair.
He was nine years old, meeting Ned Leeds after they were wearing matching R2-D2 t-shirts.
He was ten years old, getting his life saved by Iron Man and trying to remember every detail to tell May and Ben.
He was eleven years old, getting his first kiss from Noah Smith.
He was twelve years old, looking up at the stars through the telescope May had saved up for a year to get him, wondering if he’d ever get to see them in person.
He was thirteen, coming out to May and Ben, crying into their hugs as they started discussing how to set aside the money for testosterone, if Peter wanted it.
He was fourteen, finding out he got into Midtown School of Science and Technology, hoping it would get him the ticket to the bright future Ben always wanted him to have.
He was fifteen, hearing May hum for the first time since she’d lost her husband.
He was fifteen, attending homecoming for the first time and hoping junior year’s would be less eventful.
He was fifteen, being officially dubbed an Avenger by the Tony Stark.
He was fifteen, fighting a Titan, knowing he might not make it back, but knowing it was worth it, because he’d made his choice long ago that he’d save the world or die trying.
He was fifteen, getting his first real hug from Tony Stark as he crumbled to ash in his hero’s arms.
He would always be fifteen, he realized, as he opened his dark eyes to a bright light. Strong, familiar arms replaced where Tony’s were. “Uncle Ben?”
“I’m here, kiddo. You’re safe now. It’s okay.” Peter hugged his uncle tight to his chest for the first time in too long. Peter knew what this meant. It meant he’d failed. Judgement day had been decided by the snap of fingers.
“It’s not okay, Uncle Ben. I failed. I failed you- I failed the whole world! I was supposed to be responsible with my powers. I was supposed to save people.”
Uncle Ben looked Peter in the eyes. “You were amazing. I shouldn’t have put all that pressure on you. The weight of the world was never yours to bear alone. You did great, kid. I’m so proud of you.”
Peter looked away, towards the ground. “But, but I failed. I wasn’t good enough.”
“You were perfect, kid. You didn’t fail anyone.”
Everything else could wait. It was on standstill, and all that mattered was letting Peter know he was safe and loved. Peter curled into his uncle’s arms and cried. He cried for everyone he couldn’t save, and everyone who’d lost that day. He cried for a world robbed of their heroes, and an afterlife of reunions. He cried for his aunt who’d still be waiting, frantically calling his phone, and praying he’d pick up.
Ben held him tightly through it all, promising to never let him go again.
Peter Parker had been dead for two months. He’d been able to mourn, and bond with his uncle. May hadn’t shown up, and Peter didn’t know if he should be grateful or sad. He hadn’t yet found his parents, but there’d been so many new people, it was hard to find anyone.
Peter was telling Uncle Ben about homecoming when it hit. The green light. The green light that took everything back. Everyone who’d finally managed to piece themselves back together being taken away from everyone they would’ve killed to see again only three months ago.
Some Avenger or other had probably found the time stone and tried to heal their world of its mourning. There was so much loss on every side.
Peter didn’t think he’d be ready. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Uncle Ben. He wasn’t ready to stop looking for his parents. He wasn’t ready to go back to all the fighting and the pain and the suffering and the ash. But even if Peter’d had a choice, the world needed him, and he’d made his decision long ago.